Desideratum
by Mariel Nightstalker
Summary: Jacob needs control. Fenrir is just the man for the job. CROSSOVER SLASH Fenrir Greyback/Jacob Black


Note: I actually don't know if anyone has written this pairing before. If anyone knows, let me know! I'd like to read it.

~000~

**Desideratum**

~000~

_Desideratum: something that is needed or wanted._

~000~

As the youngest Alpha ever remembered by his tribe, Jacob Black was under a lot of pressure. He had to be strong. He had to be a man and a leader. He had to grow old while he was still young. He had to walk the tightrope between respect for the Elders while maintaining control because he was technically ranked superior to them.

He had to be perfect, to do everything right. No one ever said it, but there was an implicit "or else" attached to that standard of perfection.

He was barely twenty-two and already his pack had started to murmur, never to his face, about why he hadn't found his imprint yet. He didn't see what the big hurry was. Many of his Pack were no better off for having imprinted. It seemed like such a trial to find the person you were meant to be with, only to have to wait until they grew up or were ready to love you back. He had already had a relationship like that with Bella. And what a relief it was when she and her coven left for Alaska.

Besides, if and when he found his imprint, he wanted them to skip that painful period of confusion. He knew it was impossible, but the heart wants what the heart wants. He wanted desperately to go immediately to the part of understanding, support, and sex that the mature couples enjoyed. It would be nice to have someone other than Leah that he could turn to when he was confused or upset. He wanted to someone to go to when he just needed somebody to listen, and not judge him for how well he was managing his Pack. He hoped that his imprint would be smarter than him. It sounded foolish, but he needed someone unbiased to teach him how to be a leader beyond his natural ability.

But he didn't want to make the same mistake that some of the younger wolves did by imagining a perfect imprint only to be surprised by the person their genetics led them to love. He kept his mind open, even as he hoped it would be someone of whom his family would approve.

Still, he was prepared to get over it if the girl turned out to be borderline psychotic or an addict, or whatever else she turned out to be.

Not that she would necessarily be a girl.

That was the part he was the most afraid of, the part of himself that he kept separate even from his pack. Sure, he was attracted to Bella and a girl named Katie he'd met last year. But his eyes were drawn equally to his own gender. He hadn't tried anything with anyone, not even the tempting Park Ranger Stoppard, who his dad made friends with a few months back. John Stoppard was a real looker, and obviously gay. He even flirted with Jacob a few times when they had a moment alone. Billy didn't seem to notice.

The beeping of his watch pulled Jacob out of his reverie. It was time for his patrol.

He stripped swiftly and efficiently down to nothing. Then he sat cross-legged on the cold hardwood floor of his childhood bedroom. Slowing his breathing, he worked to repress and bottle up any thoughts or anxieties he didn't want the Pack overhearing. This was a precaution he took every time he was intended to transform to help him maintain his dignity, in case one of his Pack decided to join him at the last moment.

His inner thoughts carefully hidden, he rose and padded outside. With a flick of his consciousness he was as fully wolf as he had been fully man before.

He loped unhurriedly towards the woods.

~000~

To be an exile is neither as easy nor as difficult as you would think.

Fenrir quite liked being an exile, if honesty is required. He liked change. He had always liked to move around, never staying in one place for more than a few months at a time. He liked the danger of the unknown. And he liked meeting new people (and eating them, if he was in the mood and they smelled good enough).

Fenrir had made the best decision of his life when he chose to slip away when, in the chaos of the Second War, it became obvious that Voldemort was going to lose. The Ministry liked to think that it was so competent and so magically enhanced that it was impossible for people run off without their noticing. Regardless, they failed to notice Fenrir pulling one of his famous disappearing acts.

There were a lot of misconceptions about Werewolves, and about Fenrir specifically. Many people underestimated his strength because he was in Azkaban. They didn't know that he wasn't in Azkaban because he got caught. He was in Azkaban because he chose to be caught, for a change of pace. Many people underestimated his intelligence, simply because he liked to indulge his animal side. Once again, that was a choice, not a necessity.

Fenrir did what he wanted to do when he wanted to do it. That, to him, was the definition of freedom. And when he chose to do something, he did so. Just like when he left the ranks of the fallen Dark Lord and made his way to Norway, where the war hadn't spread yet. He worked here and there as it pleased him, making enough money to buy a place in the hull of a shipping boat headed for America.

The last time he'd gone to America it was 1973. He went to Las Vegas to see if it was really as easy of a mark as he'd heard. He wasn't disappointed, and left a trail of destruction that still had the Muggle authorities scratching their heads. It was fun to play Jack the Ripper.

For the sake of variety, and keeping out of sight of the hawk-eyed magical American authorities, he chose Alaska as his destination for his second visit.

Upon his arrival, he was disappointed in the small human population. There was no one worth his time, and he wasn't particularly in the mood for human flesh either. The urge came and went. He'd been noticing that, now that he was getting older, more often than not he preferred game to humans.

Still, he made the most of Alaska. He spent a month wrestling with bears and catching fish. He played with the foxes and sneered at the first few wolves that dared to show him their muzzles. The wolves tried pathetically to assert their dominance during the full moon, when their instincts told them he would be their equal. The wolves were easy to subdue. Their strongest Alpha was a mere pup in his paws and submitted after a fight that lasted barely half the moon-bright night.

After his dominance was asserted, he spent a few weeks running with the different packs and play-fighting with any brave enough to challenge him. They became used to his physical changes and soon approached him just as freely in the body of a man as that of a wolf. Only one dared believe that he was weaker as a man and lunged for his throat. He broke its spine and placed it beside a popular watering hole as an example.

There were no other challenges after that. He began to enjoy the raw beauty of the state, and the company of his wolves. A few times he became aware of the presence of other magical creatures similar to himself there but chose to avoid their company. He wasn't in the mood to mix species.

He felt truly happy during his time in Alaska.

But after half a year, the longest he had remained in the same general area since he was a very young man, before he was changed, his wanderlust returned. He took his leave of Alaska and of his wolf packs. There would be chaos amongst the wolves for a while, he knew, as they fought amongst themselves for the place of Alpha. It would be good for them to fight, though. Packs should always be fighting, he believed. It made them stronger.

He considered a boat and even an airplane but finally chose to swim from Alaska to the mainland. It would be a challenge. There was nothing he liked more than putting his body in the path of nature and challenging her dominion. He thought she liked it as much as he did, to the point of letting him win when it suited her temper and simply survive when it didn't.

Nature fought him bitterly, but he was allowed to triumph in the end. Badly bruised and battered, he washed up on the shore of the mainland. He looked and felt half-dead.

When he regained consciousness he was in a hospital bed. He feigned memory loss and, because he had no identification and certainly no money, he was released as soon as possible. Resources were precious.

He headed for the beach, dressed in the sweatpants and crew-neck sweater he'd gone swimming in. He was glad that the hospital staff hadn't thrown out his clothes, or else he'd be here in their ridiculous pajamas. Or perhaps in one of those humiliating gowns that didn't close in the back.

Barefoot, he walked the rocky swathes and strolled through the trees, smelling the air to get a feel for the local wildlife. The air was very damp and rich. It was filled with the heady scent of growing things and wilderness largely left alone by mankind. He smelled birds in abundance, the usual assortment of rodents, and other small ground-dwelling creatures.

And then he smelled something else, something quite different.

The scent was fading, as though the source had been gone for perhaps two-three days. He investigated, and frowned when he found find traces of humans. There were signs of an extinguished fire pit and several dozen beer bottles dotting the area of the scent. Following the many trails, he found an empty bottle in the crotch of a nearby tree.

Teenagers, probably, he surmised; but not ordinary teenagers from the smell of it. Either there was something special about them, or there was someone special with them when they were here.

He picked out the strongest scent and did his best to follow it. After a mile or so of tramping, he realized that it was moving in the same general direction as the others. The scents diverged when they came close to a wooden sign. He squinted at it, and was informed that he was now entering the Native American Indian Reservation for a tribe called Quileute.

After a moment of thought he decided to come back under cover of darkness and investigate further. The scent would be fainter then, but he was fairly certain he could recognize it if he caught a whiff of it. He was an excellent tracker, and very sure of his abilities.

The woods were pleasant enough, and further to their credit they contained deer. He discovered this delightful fact when he scented one in his general area. He stalked it and took stock of its herd. She belonged to a fair-sized one, and it gave him plenty of variety. From the vantage-point of a moss-hung tree, he picked out a doe with a bad leg. On a primal level he selected her to kill out of a sense of duty to the herd that was held back by her injury.

He leapt onto her back when she passed beneath his tree and took no time to toy with her. He snapped her neck as the herd bolted. When he was sure she was dead, he hefted her onto his shoulders and carried her towards the water. It was a several-mile walk, but he had decided to make his camp in a cave close to the water for the sake of convenience. He liked to swim and the water would be useful when he undertook the bloody task of preparing the deer for consumption. His body's tolerance for raw meat was shaky during the middle of the month, when his change was furthest.

He hated those times when he was nearly human more than the pain of his transformations. It made him too aware of the split nature of his existence. If he had his way, the split could be done away with completely, and he could change in and out of his wolf body at will. What freedom that would be, he mused.

The deer was young and barely grown. He could tell that the meat would be succulent and flavorful even without spices. He sharpened a shard of rock against another until it was sharp. Then he used the tool to skin the deer with the efficiency of long experience.

After a few minutes of carving, he became aware that he was being watched.

~000~

Jacob was just getting bored on his patrol. He was nearly ready to hand it over to Sam when he was nearly bowled over by a fleeing herd of deer. Scenting something dangerous in the air, he cautiously followed the direction from which they had fled.

In a clover-filled clearing he caught the heady smell of something unfamiliar but powerful.

It wasn't human, but it was human-like. The smell was so overwhelming that he was able to follow it with ease. It went down in a fairly straight line towards the coast. He could hear the water roaring in his ears. His fur began to rise in hackles as he considered what he would do when he found this unknown predator. It wasn't a vampire, and it wasn't one of his kind. Were there other creatures like them in the world, other creatures that were more than human, and unknown to him? It was very possible that there were hundreds or thousands of creatures like or stronger than him.

It wasn't something that he'd thought about before, and the concept terrified him. What if everything else out there was stronger? What if he was the Alpha of a Pack at the bottom of the food chain, so to speak?

He could tell from the smell that he was very close to the source. It was just a few feet away, below the dip in the ground that sloped down to the water. He hesitated. It wasn't that he lacked courage. It was just that he was unsure of how to proceed. This was an entirely new situation, and one for which he had not mentally prepared.

He sank his belly low to the ground, careful not to scrape it on the rocks, and inched forward little by little. He made no sound.

There were soft scraping sounds mixed with a wet tearing. The scent of blood was pungent. His ears perked, straining to understand what he was hearing. Maybe it was just the creature eating the deer, but maybe not.

He inched forward some more and came close enough to see downwards. He stilled. There was a man squatting on the beach, skinning a slain deer with quick deft movements using what appeared to be a rock. He was naked from the waist up and spattered with blood from his task. A mass of wild grayish hair scooped over one shoulder made his age difficult to ascertain. He couldn't see his face, but he didn't see any sagging skin on the naked back presented to him. The man's skin was white as the foam cresting the waves and scarred in varied shapes and sizes. Some of the old injuries looked like they had been serious.

Most importantly, he looked strong and was of imposing dimensions. His shoulders were broad and it was plain that his legs were long, even in his squat. Jacob wondered vaguely which of them was taller.

The man suddenly stilled. The stone knife was removed from its task of scraping the skin clean and gripped in a huge fist. Jacob's heart began to thud. He knew that his presence had been detected. The man rose out of his squat and slowly turned to face him, the sharp bloodied stone held loosely at his side, a ready weapon.

Jacob got barely a glimpse of steel-colored eyes before his own vision suffused with gold. He felt separated from his body even as he was aware of it convulsing on the sharp rocks of the beach. Blackness came suddenly, flinging him into unconsciousness without his consent.

~000~

When he returned to consciousness, there was a strange lightness to his body. He felt like he was barely touching the ground and that the slightest gust of wind would blow him away like a leaf.

After some moments of happy oblivion, he realized that he was human and that he was naked. He accepted this without a second thought. It felt good to be naked, to feel the damp softness of the moss beneath him against his skin.

There was something big and warm close by. He didn't know how he knew this; because that was something that he would normally only observe as a wolf. His human body was not as attuned to his environment. The big thing came closer, and Jacob felt a large hand cup the back of his head.

His eyes fluttered open, and he looked at the hand's body. The body was very large, and male. He was the biggest man that Jacob had ever seen, and he was Jacob's.

Jacob frowned at the odd thought. What did that mean? Some instinct made him aware of the gold light that had suffused him prior to his brush with unconsciousness. Did he…imprint?

He met the man's eyes, still feeling as though his head were pleasantly wadded with cotton. The man lifted an eyebrow, and then started to smile. His teeth were ever-so-slightly pointed. When he spoke, his voice had a husky quality that Jacob found fascinating and arousing at the same time.

"Hey, keep looking at me like that with those big eyes and you might find yourself getting more than you're flirting for."

Jacob's addled mind processed this as encouragement. He smiled back.

"How do you know what I want? Maybe I want more than I can handle."

Distantly, he couldn't believe that he'd just said that. What was he, some kind of porn star in a cheesy build-up scene? He sat up as best as he was able, feeling more self-conscious. Was it really wise for him to be alone with this deer slayer, completely vulnerable? If he had any sense, he would summon his Pack.

He didn't have much time to engage in sanity, though. In the next moment, by accident, Fenrir's hand slipped and touched Jacob's bare thigh. That unleashed something inside of Jacob. All he could think of was that he wanted to be in this man's arms. The instant they touched he knew that the man wanted his body, and the man seemed to sense that Jacob wanted his. There was a totally irrational overwhelming charge of electricity that passed between them.

Jacob felt as if the sky had fallen on him. His cheeks were burning, his heart was melting, and he had a heavy, melting feeling below the waist. He could hardly sit straight on the mossy ground, it was so intense. At first he didn't realize what was happening, but soon realized that it was lust. Jacob had such violent desire for this man, who was still splattered with deer blood that he could hardly breathe.

They had sex. But it wasn't the ordinary sex that he had had with Katie and fantasized about having with Stoppard. In hindsight, he wasn't sure if it was the effect of the recent imprint's fog, or if Fenrir was just an excellent lover. Whatever the reason, it was amazing.

He felt like his flesh was rolling in hot mud. His mind sucked in the sheer pleasure to the point of bursting- and then it burst. It was absolutely miraculous. It was one of the most wonderful things that ever happened to him. Fenrir's hands seemed to be everywhere, and there was so much _force _in his body that Jacob was stunned to find afterwards that the world had not moved off of its axis.

The ecstasy of his experience was punctuated with commas and semicolons in the form of nips from those sharp teeth and scratches from his sharp nails. Jacob didn't mind the occasional bubble of pain; it helped heighten his pleasure.

He had no idea how long their lovemaking lasted. His mind was a wasteland, entirely uninhabited by reason. He gave no thought to his Pack, his responsibilities, his auto shop, or even his father. His body was in heaven, and his mind was humming with the messages flooding in from his over-stimulated nerves.

Finally, they fell asleep.

~000~

Jacob awoke cold and filled with the horror of what he'd done.

There was no slow transition into sanity. He awoke fully cognizant, and deeply embarrassed. He had just lost his gay virginity to a strange wild man, whose name he still didn't know. Furthermore, said act had occurred on the beach, in a cave, and on the forest floor. This was a beach frequented by people, and they had just had insane sex right there in the open, where anyone could have seen or heard them.

It was dark, and he guessed that it was the small hours of the morning. He stared morosely at the deer carcass. He didn't dare to move lest he wake his sleeping companion, who had decided to sleep with an arm and a leg slung over Jacob's body. He was humiliated already, thank you, and needed a few minutes to regroup before he could have a proper post-sex conversation.

They hadn't used protection. _Fucking shit_, of course they hadn't. He didn't know how to put together a coherent sentence, much less think about using a condom. He sighed and closed his eyes to offer up a prayer at the thought. If there was a Great Spirit watching over him, he would not be enjoying a social disease in the imminent future.

The man rolled over at that moment, freeing Jacob from his prison of prison. Jacob bolted to his feet, transformed, and sprinted into the woods in the direction of home. Remembering the dead deer, he took a very circuitous route. He even climbed a tree and hopped from tree to tree for as long as he could. He walked through water, and thanked the heavens when they deigned to drizzle.

Safe in his house, he tiptoed past his father's bedroom and into the bathroom to shower. He scrubbed the mud and various bodily fluids off of himself, feeling his panic decrease as he saw the water sluicing down his body grow cleaner by degrees. In the dim light through the glass shower door, he could see evidence of Fenrir's rough treatment. Tracing a bite mark on his stomach, he shivered. He remembered the feral gleam in those gray-yellow eyes that had flared as his teeth made contact with his flesh.

What _was _that man? He certainly wasn't human, Jacob was sure.

Had he really imprinted on him? Now that they were apart Jacob wasn't so sure that he hadn't just fainted or hallucinated the whole thing. He rested his cheek against the tiled wall and sighed. He didn't know how he felt about this. If he had imprinted on that man, he would have no choice but to seek him out and come to some sort of arrangement. He couldn't just ignore his imprint…could he?

When he had lingered long enough in the shower to use all of the hot water, he stepped out. As soon as he was dry, he went to his room. There, he pulled on a pair of boxers and went to bed. Exhausted emotionally and physically (still), he fell into a deep sleep.

~000~

Fenrir awoke alone.

He entertained the idea that the beautiful young man he'd ravished had been merely a dream. He grinned when he realized that under no circumstances could he have imagined the events of the previous day.

He stood and stretched. He knew what he had to do. He needed to find this young man, find out why he was in the body of a wolf before fainting, and then ravish him again. A body like the one he remembered was made for worship and sex.

The scent was still fresh, if greatly dampened by the precipitation. But Fenrir did not have a reputation as an excellent tracker for no reason.

~000~

Because it wasn't raining, Jacob was able to take his lunch sitting on the roof of his shop. This gave him an advance warning of the approach of his imprint. At first there was some kind of tingle that ran through his entire body. Then he saw him. If Jacob hadn't known that he was near, he wouldn't have seen him. For a large half-naked man, his imprint was incredibly skilled at blending into the scenery.

He watched him, slowly munching his third sandwich. He waited for him to draw close. There was nothing else he could do. He was fortunate that, because it was lunch, most of the tribe were at home eating or still at work.

When the man left the woods and actually started striding straight through town towards him, Jacob stood. An impulse made him wave. The wild man grinned.

With a leap, he landed on the roof. Jacob was reluctantly impressed. Did this guy belong to a circus?

"Why did you leave?"

The man was British. That had someone slipped Jacob's attention yesterday. He swallowed.

"I don't know. I got scared."

The man grinned. "Good. You _should_ be scared."

Jacob didn't know what to make of that, so he did the only thing he could think of. He went to the edge of the roof and jumped lightly to the ground. He disappeared into the shop. Once the door shut, he leaned against it and closed his eyes. There was no mistake. He had imprinted on this man. He couldn't explain how he knew; there was just a feeling inside him that they should never be apart. Even now it hurt to be away from him.

The man entered through the garage door and closed it behind him. Jacob didn't look at him. As much as he hid it from his Pack, he really was not particularly talented at handling new situations.

"What's your name?"

Jacob blinked. "I'm Jake."

"You smell like an alpha, Jake."

"How can you possibly smell that?"

The man approached. He moved like a predator, all softness and inevitability. Jacob shrank back, feeling small for the first time in six years. Fenrir was only a head or so taller than him, but his presence was far larger. Distantly, Jacob felt envious. Maybe some day he would radiate as much power and authority as this man.

"I am Fenrir Greyback. I smell everything."

"What are you?"

Fenrir stood directly in front of him. He kept his arms loosely hanging at his sides, but it was all too apparent that he could pin Jacob to the wall instantly should Jacob make any move to leave. Jacob forced himself to meet his eyes. They were yellow-gold in color and inspired a mixture of terror and attraction.

"Don't you know?"

"No."

"I am a Werewolf."

Jacob believed him. He didn't know that Werewolves were real until this conversation, but as he looked into those yellow eyes he knew that Fenrir was telling the truth. He was no more human than Jacob.

"We can't have this conversation here," he whispered, feeling his common sense returning. Fenrir's presence was overwhelming, but he was still able to catch moments of sanity between fits of hypnosis.

Jacob intended to have a decent explanatory conversation in the living room of his house, but the moment he locked the door (to keep any surprise visitors out), he found himself manhandled into the nearest bedroom.

There was nothing he could do; Fenrir held him in his thrall.

~000~

The reaction from his Pack was not pleasant when he revealed that he had imprinted on a man, but Jacob was prepared for that. He was not prepared for Fenrir to show up unannounced.

In typical fashion, Paul made a lunge for his throat. He didn't know that Fenrir was Jacob's imprint. All he knew was that he was a threat. Amazingly, Fenrir somehow grabbed him by the muzzle and twisted him to the floor.

Before anyone else could say something regrettable (the Pack weren't known for their patience or control of their tempers), Leah cut in.

"Okay, okay. Wow. You are…strong."

There were growls and murmurs of agreement.

"I know none of us were expecting this, but," she moved to stand beside Jacob, "as they say, what can't be cured must be endured. We're all just going to have to get over ourselves and accept this. Jake is still our Alpha and his imprint deserves our respect."

Leah thumped him on the back in a display of sisterly solidarity. Jacob had never been so grateful to her in his life.

~000~

He wouldn't call his relationship with Fenrir healthy. Fenrir would disappear for months at a time without explanation. He made Jacob feel out of control, and he completely dominated his Pack whenever he encountered them. It was no secret that Fenrir was a dangerous individual, not to be trifled with. As his partner, Jacob was given the same respect. Jacob found that people that had previously spoken behind his back were now silenced. His Pack was more solid, and when Fenrir was around he didn't have to worry about being completely in control.

He wasn't sure if Fenrir loved him, but he loved Fenrir and that would have to suffice.

~000~

End Desideratum

~000~

Note: This is quite a departure for me, and I'm not entirely certain how I feel about this pairing. Let me know what you think! (DID YOU KNOW THAT THERE ARE ALMOST NO FENRIR/TWILIGHT STORIES? What the hell, right?)


End file.
